What I Did On My Earth Vacation
by Lucillia
Summary: Following the official First Contact, Mestral and a survivor of a prior science vessel crash who have hitched a ride aboard the T'Plana-Hath trade stories on their way home.
1. Chapter 1

The vessel that had been sitting outside an encampment in Montana for the last few days had been big news. Being big news, none of the networks would shut up about it. Considering the twenty-four hour coverage over both the internet and the airwaves, it was somewhat unusual that virtually nobody had noticed two figures approaching the ship. One of the figures was that of an incredibly ancient looking man who was stooped over with age and seemed to depend on a walker to move. The elderly man had a full head of snow white hair, and a pair of piercing black eyes. The second figure was that of a man who was either in late middle age or just entering old age with a head of iron gray hair that was starting to turn white and a pair of black eyes that were a bit warmer than those of his older companion.

When both men reached the ramp they exchanged greetings in the language of the beings who owned the ship whose current occupants were currently at the makeshift bar speaking with some world leaders and politely declining yet another drink offer from Zeframe Cochran. After the formality was over, they climbed aboard, made themselves at home in the ship's small dining area and introduced themselves.

"My name's Stonn. I survived an emergency bailout over Siberia in 1908 after a malfunction sent us into the atmosphere. Two of the crew were caught in the explosion and killed. The communications equipment in my and T'ara's escape pod didn't survive the landing either. You?" the older of the pair said.

"You had escape pods?" the younger exclaimed.

"Experimental craft design. Obviously faulty. It's a good thing that it wasn't over a more populated area when it exploded." Stonn said.

"They seem to send alot of those here if what I went through and that incident 20 years ago is anything to judge by." the younger male said. "My name's Mestral. My vessel crash landed in Pennsylvania in 1957. Our captain was killed, but T'Mir Stron and I were almost miraculously uninjured. We were stranded in a town called Carbon Creek for an entire winter, and when a rescue vessel arrived to pick us up, I decided to remain behind."

One of the ship's crew - a male who looked to be middle aged - walked into the mess area and looked shocked for half a second upon seeing its occupants before his expression returned to neutral.

"Mestal? Weren't you cremated?" the crew member asked.

"He got better." Stonn said.

Mestral raised an eyebrow at this.

"Monty Python?" he asked.

"I was in Russia, not on the moon." Stonn replied.


	2. Chapter 2

The captain of the T'Plana-Hath which would be departing for Vulcan soon suppressed a frown as he watched one of the members of his crew approach him with an unseemly amount of haste. Something had obviously gone wrong, and he hoped it wasn't a problem with the ship, considering the unusual number of science vessels that had been lost on survey missions to Earth. The planet had something of a legendary reputation for being a ship wrecker, and he'd be damned if he'd let the planet claim the T'Plana-Hath as it had claimed a number of vessels before it.

"What's wrong?" he asked, cutting through the usual formalities, since the situation was apparently gravely serious if his subordinate's body language was any indication.

"My cousin just came aboard." the rather perturbed crewman said.

That caused a raised eyebrow since, while he was aware that two of his crewmembers were distantly related, his subordinate had never referred to the shipmate with whom there was a degree of consanguinity in such a manner.

"Please specify as to exactly how this is a problem." he said, wondering how and why someone's return to the ship could cause such a reaction in his normally sane and well-behaved lieutenant.

The lieutenant blinked, and took a deep breath, centering himself as he did so.

"My forefather's eldest son's second son who was declared dead more than a century ago who was in the company of an elderly male who claims to be the survivor of a science vessel that went down over a place called "Siberia" recently boarded the ship without permission, somehow bypassing all intruder alert systems as he did so." the lieutenant said once he'd regained his composure.

Under such unusual circumstances, his subordinate's lack of decorum could be excused. He would have been highly disturbed if he'd encountered a relative he believed to be dead himself. That of course begged the question of what a supposedly dead man was doing here and what his intentions were. It wasn't unheard of for those who have gone native to behave in an irrational manner when confronted with the possibility that they may be forced to return home.

"What is he currently doing?" he asked, silently hoping and praying that the answer wasn't "Sabotaging the ship", as there had been a rather notable incident on another world two centuries before that had become something of a cautionary tale amongst the captains of the science vessels.

His lieutenant pulled out a data slate and tapped into the ship's security systems. A quick search of the ship revealed that his lieutenant's not so deceased relative was seated in the mess area talking with an elderly male that he did not recognize. What they were discussing however was completely incomprehensible.

**Aboard the T'Plana-Hath:**

"I found the Mr. Hilter sketch to be of particular interest." the elderly Stonn said, content to once again be speaking in his own language with someone whom he shared common ground.

"The Russian Execution sketch was..." Mestral started, before fishing around for a usable adjective since Modern Vulcan didn't have an equivalent for "hilarious", the Rihan he'd picked up from his mother caused raised eyebrows, and his Ancient High Vulcan was a bit shaky at best.

"...Fascinating." Mestral finally said, settling on a catch-all phrase.

"I would've thought one of your sort would find The Royal Philharmonic Orchestra Goes to the Bathroom to be of more interest." Stonn sniped, his voice slipping into the accent of his adopted homeland.

"One of my sort?" Mestral asked, hoping that he wasn't getting at what he thought he was getting at since he'd gotten enough of that during his childhood, and his early adulthood right up until he'd crash-landed on Earth come to think of it.

"_Mestral_?" Stonn asked, as if his name alone said everything, and it did in a way.

He gave his elder a look that a human would translate to "Them's fightin' words", if they could discern it from the one that would signify minor annoyance were it on a human face.

"So, what did you do while you were here on Earth?" the elderly Vulcan asked, tactfully backing away from the subject, their previous conversation having obviously been scrapped in order to prevent further discord.

"This and that." he said as he went over the last century and change that he'd spent exploring the planet, regretfully noting that he hadn't seen everything, but knowing that he had to go back to Vulcan since he was becoming literally "homesick". "Mostly, I just hitched rides to different places."

"I hope you asked for permission first, but considering your current behavior, I somehow doubt it." the Captain of the T'Plana-Hath said as he entered the mess with his lieutenant trailing behind him. "At least you haven't started eating our food without permission."


End file.
